Making Them Remember
by ItalianLifestyle
Summary: Matthew is sick of being forgotten, so he has decided to do something to make sure that he's not forgotten. Will it work or will he completely drop off the face of the planet?  Warning: Suicide Attempts
1. The Incident

**Author Commentary:** I was in a really bad place when I wrote this... I'm sorry if the characters seem a little OOC, but I just needed to write because it helped me out of my bad mood... It just so happens that poor Matt ended up being who my frustration was taken out on. Also, its rating is for graphic scenes, but I am adding a smut chapter, for those who want it.

**Title: **Making Them Remember

**Characters: **Matthew/Canada, Gilbert/Prussia

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia.

**Warning:** Attempted suicide, bloody scenes

"Why doesn't anyone notice me?" Matthew said aloud to no one in particular, looking in the mirror of the boys' bathroom. He had gotten up in the middle of class and walked right out the door without saying a word to anyone or having anyone say anything to him. Even his own parents and brother forgot about him sometimes... So who would miss him if he were to just disappear one day?

No one, that's who. Matthew could feel the tears slide down his cheeks. He willed them to go away, but they just wouldn't stop. Sobbing harder, his body shaking, he sank to the filthy bathroom floor—who knows when the last time it was cleaned? He moved until he was sitting under the leaking sink in a puddle of dirty... hopefully it was water... but he didn't really care. It's not like anyone would notice, let alone care that he was wet. The water was slowly dripping from the pipe above him and each drop hit his head. The little Canadian couldn't stop a violent shudder from coursing through his small body.

Maybe he would just disappear. And maybe once he was gone, people would notice. No... he couldn't just vanish. He'd have to do much better than that. Life would go on as normal if he merely disappeared. Matthew's thoughts continued down this path, slowly getting darker.

Finally, he had snapped. After all the years of putting up with being ignored and just letting himself fade into the background, he was going to get people to notice him. He'd put up with this for far too long. He didn't care if he wasn't around when they finally noticed him, so long as they did. And not by mistaking him for his brother, either. The two of them looked nothing alike and Alfred was far denser than Matthew! Scrambling to his feet, Matt looked in the mirror and sure enough, it was his own reflection that looked back at him, not Alfred's. He didn't want to see it, though, so he slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering his reflection. He barely felt the glass that was piercing his hand as he pulled a particularly large shard down and then moved to sit back in his puddle.

Once he was settled into that spot, he gripped the shard in his right hand. The jagged edges broke through his skin, and his pupils dilated as adrenaline rushed through his veins, survival instinct trying to take over and tell him to quit. He ignored that, though, and told himself that he didn't care anymore. Slowly, he ran the end of the fragment of glass along the smooth skin of his forearm. Shivering at the feeling, he kept going until one long, red, shallow cut ran the length of his arm. He moved back to the start of the cut and pushed in again, deepening the cut. Red blood oozed from the cut and the warm liquid trickled down his arm to mix with the murky water beneath him.

Eventually, he left the deep cut and carved his name into the skin above it. Now no one could possibly forget him. Black blurred the edges of his vision as he carved the final s of his last name. Then, his hand went slack around the shard and it fell out of his hand, which dropped limply down into his lap. A moment after that, he had completely passed out, lack of blood finally getting to him. With the luck he had and how invisible he seemed to be to everyone else, he would probably bleed to death before somebody found him. Whoever did surely would not forget the sight of a dead body on the bathroom floor, which was covered in water mingled with blood. The sight would be traumatizing.

For once, Gilbert had actually gotten a pass out of class. He only half had to use the bathroom. The other half of his reason for leaving was to go find that cute Canadian boy who sits in the front. Gilbert had watched him leave and was rather surprised that he didn't even attempt to ask for permission. But then he noticed that the kid looked really upset. Though he wouldn't admit it aloud, Gilbert was worried. Matthew was a good kid who never just got up and left. Even though most people tended not to notice him, for some reason, Gilbert did notice. For that very reason, he felt compelled to go and make sure that Matt was okay.

But first he had to piss. He couldn't concentrate on finding Matt if he was too busy concentrating on how full his bladder was. Pushing the bathroom door, he walked in only to stop dead. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. At first, he couldn't even get his mind to work, then he grabbed his phone out of his pocket—so much for not being allowed to have cell phones at school—and called the emergency number. He did his best to keep his cool as he gave them the information of what he had found.

Finished with the call, he pocketed the phone and pulled off his shirt. Kneeling next to Matt's still body, he pressed the shirt over the wound on Matt's left arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Putting the fingers of his free hand to Matt's neck, he finally took the pulse and what he found was faint and fluttering.

"Don't die on me," he said, glancing in horror at all the red liquid around the body and his very own knees. He wasn't sure what was blood and what was water, all he knew was that there was a lot of red.

Nervously, he waited for the paramedics to arrive. After what seemed like forever, they rushed in and shooed Gilbert out of the way. Once Matt was loaded up, Gilbert held the door open for them.

Students were crowding the halls and not moving out of the way fast enough for Gilbert's liking. He walked ahead of the paramedics and started shouting, "Move the fuck out of the way, you idiots! Can't you see someone's hurt? If you don't move, his death is on your hands!"

The students started scattering, pressing against the lockers to get out of the way. They weren't a hundred percent sure what was going on, but they could see a shirtless Gilbert with bloodied trouser legs, and they could see that Gilbert was worried and that was an emotion that he never showed.

Gilbert watched as they loaded up Matt and climbed into the ambulance, refusing to let Matt out of his sight. He rode in the ambulance to the hospital and tried to follow after they admitted Matt. He was forced to stay in the waiting room when they brought him back to stitch him up and get him stabilized. He wasn't happy about that, but he knew he had to go with it or risk being thrown out and not allowed to see Matt when he is better.

Several nurses came up to Gilbert while he was waiting to see if they could get him something (a shirt perhaps?) or help him clam down, but he didn't even spare them a glance. Instead, he continued pacing around the waiting room, making its other occupants nervous.

Finally, they were done with Matt and Gilbert was allowed to go see him. He walked into the room and saw Matt laying there looking pitiful. The frail Canadian seemed even smaller in that hospital bed. So many tubes and monitors were hooked to him and his bandaged arm and hand were lying on top of the covers. He was so very pale, even paler than usual.

Pulling up a chair, Gilbert sat next to Matt and grabbed the hand that wasn't bandaged. "Oh, Matt... why would you do this to yourself?" He knew Matt was still out, but he couldn't help but ask.

Time ticked by and Gilbert was getting tired. He laid his head down on the bed, still holding Matt's hand, and slowly, he fell asleep.

Next thing Matt knew, he was coming to. His body felt heavy and he felt like he couldn't move. After a bit of work, he got his eyes to open and looked around. At first, all he could see was white, then he looked down and saw that someone was holding the hand of the arm that he'd been cutting. He furrowed his brow, trying to think through the throbbing pain in his arm. The man was familiar, but he couldn't quite place him... and for some reason, he was also shirtless.

A nurse walked in at that moment. "Oh, good!" she exclaimed. "You're up!" She looked thoroughly relieved and a smile lit her face.

"Wh-what happened?" Matt asked unintelligibly.

"That young man saved your life by calling us. He only left your side when we made him and he paced the whole time you were apart. It was making everyone nervous! You two must be really good friends." She the started to check his charts to make sure that he was doing all right.

Matthew could feel his cheeks hear up as he looked down at the man, who he suddenly recognized. Either Gilbert really did care about Matthew or he felt really bad about it and that's why he stayed... but if he didn't care, wouldn't he at least have gone to get a shirt? He didn't realize it, but he'd been unconsciously squeezing Gilbert's hand tighter.

"Ow... Matt, loosen up. You're hurting my hand," Gilbert mumbled, turning his head to look at his hospitalized classmate.

"S-sorry," Matthew replied, even quieter than usual and he hadn't even processed the fact that Gilbert actually used his name. Slowly, Matt loosened his grip on Gilbert's hand.

"It's okay. I'm just glad to see you not passed out in a pool of your own blood."

"I'm sorry that you're the one who had to find me."

"Why'd you do it?" Gilbert asked again, this time to a conscious Matt. A look of mixed anger and sadness was on Gilbert's face. "Why'd you try to kill yourself? You're too amazing to deprive the world of your presence."

Tears sprung to Matthew's eyes as he looked back at Gilbert, suddenly feeling very stupid. "I-I... was sick of no one n-noticing m-me... I f-figured that no one would be able t-to forget being the o-one to find the b-body..." The tears spilled over, chasing one another down his cheeks. He couldn't calm down or stop them, no matter how hard he tried.

Gilbert was glad that the nurse was gone. If she was still in the room, he'd have a lot more trouble comforting Matt. That was what really mattered right now. Carefully, he climbed onto the bed and put a knee on either side of Matt's hips and, careful of the wires and tubes, pulled him into his chest.

Matt felt himself be pulled into Gilbert's chest, so he just went with it. He wrapped his arms around Gilbert and cried into the bare chest in front of him. For some reason, the other's presence was comforting to him. Just being held was helping him to calm down, then a hand started gently rubbing his back and he relaxed further. Soon, he was just sniffling and even that subsided after a few moments, and then Matt was back to normal, except with a wetter face. He didn't want to move, though, so he kept his face pressed against Gilbert's chest.

"S-sorry," Matt said, trying to pull away because he was a little uncomfortable with the salty, wet skin of his face pressed against the salty, wet skin of Gilbert's chest. However, Gilbert just held him tightly, so he had to tell him what the problem was. "J-just let me wipe m-my tears..."

Gilbert didn't let go of him, but grabbed a few tissues, wiping the tears out of Matthew's eyes and then drying off his own chest. "Is that better?" he asked softly.

Matt nodded, making himself comfortable again. He sighed softly, leaning into Gilbert.

The two of them stayed like that for awhile until Gilbert spoke. "Matt... I should probably get off the bed. I'm not a patient."

The fact that Gilbert was using his name finally registered with Matt and he suddenly felt really happy. That feeling left him as the rest of the words sunk in. He didn't want Gilbert's warmth and comfort to leave him and the thought made his eyes go wild with fear and his arms tighten, holding himself tighter to Gilbert, trying not to cry out at the pain it caused.

"Don't hurt yourself," Gilbert said, sounding a bit worried. Matt didn't loosen his arms, so he continued, "You don't need to worry, either. I'll stay here with you. I just don't wanna get in trouble and get kicked out. I plan to stay here with you as much as I can until you are all better. And I swear that I won't ever forget you. Not now, not after you're better, never. I will always remember you."

Matthew let himself be soothed by the words. Slowly, he loosened his grip and then laid back against them pillows.

Gilbert climbed off of him, carefully grabbing his hand and watching until Matt fell back asleep, body and mind too drained to stay awake.

Once Matthew was out again, Gilbert called his friend, Francis. He would have texted, but he only had one hand and he hadn't mastered typing one-handed on his full keyboard phone.

"Bonjour?" came a voice over the phone. There was babble in the background, which indicated that Francis was hanging out after school as usual.

"Do you think you could stop by my house and pick me up a shirt and some pants, then cook me some food and bring it all to the hospital?"

"Oui, mais... I must ask... are you all right?"

"Ja, I'm fine."

"Okay... It might be awhile before I get down there, then... I'm trying to figure out who was killed in the boys' bathroom."

"No one was killed, Francis. The boy attempted suicide. I'm with him. Now _please_ do as I asked." A hint of annoyance colored Gilbert's voice as he explained.

"D'accord... But you know it will still be awhile. My food takes time because it has to be parfait."

"_Ja, I know,_" he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm just hungry and shirtless and my pants are blood-stained, so getting those things at all sounds good."

"I'll go cook now and bring it to you when it's done," Francis replied, then hung up. Gilbert hung up as well, then did his best to relax in the uncomfortable hospital seat.


	2. Getting Out

**A/N:** So... I know I started writing this long ago, and some people may have lost interest by now... if that's the case, I'm sorry. I'm going to try picking this up again, though it may not be as good as that first chapter, because I was feeling the emotions as I wrote that.

Matthew was uncomfortable. The only thing that was nice was the warmth on his left hand. As he became more conscious, he could hear voices, and then smell something that made his mouth water and his stomach grumble. He groaned and opened his eyes to see Gilbert holding his hand and taking bites of something in his lap whenever he wasn't talking to the other man in the room.

He didn't know who this new guy was. All he knew was that the blond went to school with Gilbert and himself and was in their senior class. He hadn't actually met him, though.

"Mattie, you're awake!" Gilbert exclaimed, grinning at him. "This is my friend, Francis. He brought me some clean clothes and some real food. You hungry?"

Matt nodded weakly. He wasn't sure how he'd be able to eat with all of the bandages and wires covering him, but it turned out that he didn't have to worry for long as a forkful of whatever food Francis had brought was put in front of his face. Blushing at having to be fed, Matthew ate the food, which turned out to be as delicious as it smelled.

The three of them sat, talked and ate, and were later joined by a Spanish kid, who was also in their class. Matthew was surprised by the fact that he wasn't left out of the conversation, but was happy to be noticed nonetheless. However, they did have to leave when visiting hours were over.

Meeting with those three boys became a routine. After school, the three of them would come to the hospital with Matt's homework and help him to it (it was difficult to write with how much damage had been done to his right hand and left arm). Once homework was done, the four would talk and laugh. Matthew learned a lot about the others, like the fact that Francis and the Spanish boy, Antonio, were dating. For some reason, though, Francis kept getting a strange look in his eye and glancing between Matthew and Gilbert, though the two would just do their best to ignore it.

Francis and Antonio usually left together after an hour or two of talking. That left Matt and Gilbert to talk or just enjoy one another's company until visiting hours ended and Gilbert lingered until someone came to actually tell him to get out.

A few days went by before this routine was interrupted by Matt's parents and brother _finally_ showing up. Matthew's three new acquaintances were told to leave while his family pretended to be worried about him. After what seemed like forever, they left. By that time, Francis and Antonio had gone, but Gilbert immediately came into the room to see how the poor kid was doing. The visit with his family left Matthew feeling drained, so he ended up falling asleep not long after Gilbert joined him. Though he was certain that he imagined it, Matthew could have sworn that he felt lips on his forehead as he was drifting off.

Finally, the day came when Matt was allowed to leave the hospital. He was really excited, even if it did mean he would go back to his family that never remembered that he existed. He could deal with it now because he had friends and Gilbert had made it very clear that he wasn't going to forget him.

Fidgeting, Matthew hoped the nurse would come and unhook him soon. He hadn't told his friends that he was getting out today, so he wanted to get there before it ended so that he could surprise them.

"Hello, dear!" his mother exclaimed in a falsely cheery voice, her fake breasts bouncing as she walked in.

"Hello, mother," he replied, his cheeriness even more forced than hers.

"I bet you're excited to get to go home."

"Yeah," he said, doing his best to sound enthusiastic.

The nurse came in at that moment, getting him unhooked from everything and shifting him to a wheelchair. "You just need to check out at the front desk," she informed his mother.

She nodded and wheeled him to the front. "Oi! We're here to get out of this hellhole," she shouted to the people behind the desk. Matthew sunk down in his chair, wanting to die.

A flustered nurse came up and started making sure everything was in order. "We just need him to keep coming back for two types of therapy. Here's his first appointment," the woman said, handing her a small card.

"I'll take that," Matthew told his mother, noting that she was about to slip the thing into her cleavage. He knew that even if she didn't lose it in there, she probably would forget about that appointment, like she did with all of Matthew's other ones.

"Alright, sweetie," she said, voice dripping with sarcastic cheer. Not that the hospital staff would notice. Matthew had just picked up on her different intonations from living with her for his entire miserable life. He took the card from her, putting it in the pocket of the jeans that she'd thought to bring with her—they were Alfred's, not his own.

Finally, she turned to leave the hospital. "Come on, hon," she said, wheeling him out. "We need to go pick up your brother from school."

"Can I see my friends while we're there?" he asked timidly. He knew that they'd be going to school, so he was hoping the whole time that she'd say yes to that question so that he really could surprise them like he wanted.

She rolled her eyes, but he couldn't see that because she was behind him, pushing the chair. "Fine, but make it quick."

They got to the car and Matthew carefully got up from the chair and got into the car. The pain killers that were still pumping through his veins were causing him a bit of dizziness, but he'd had worse. The nurse who had followed them out wheeled the chair out of their way, so Matt's mother took off, heading for his school. The woman parked in a handicap spot, even though they didn't have a sticker, which made Matt frown because he knew it was illegal. Nonetheless, he wanted to see his friends, so he got out of the car. Unfortunately for him, he moved a little too quickly, bringing on a headrush and more dizziness. Gripping the car door, he clenched his eyes tight, willing it to pass quickly. Since his eyes were closed, he didn't see his mom disappear into the school without him.

Once he'd gotten back to normal, he opened his eyes, sighing when he realized that she was gone. Making his way into the building, he decided that he'd drop into Gilbert's class for the last few minutes of it. He knew what Gilbert had because the two of them shared that class, so technically, it was his class too.

As he was walking, he was looking at his feet, so used to keeping his head down in the halls that it was just instinct, so he didn't notice that there was another person in the hall and he ran straight into them, getting knocked flat on his back. The person who ran into him turned out to be his very own brother, and the kid just kept walking as if nothing had happened.

"Alfred, did mom find you?" Alfred didn't give any sign showing that he had heard and just kept walking. Matthew sighed, not sure if he even wanted to get up any more.

"Mattie, are you okay?" This voice wasn't his brother's but it was definitely familiar, and he heard footsteps quickening and coming closer. "Why are you on the ground?" He was too distracted by the fact that his friend was on the ground to ask why he wasn't in the hospital.

"I felt a little faint," he lied.

"Do you want some water? I heard that helps or something..."

"No, I'm feeling better now." Matt finally sat up and Gilbert smiled.

"That's good. So..." He had finally thought about the fact that the Canadian was out of the hospital, so he asked, "What're you doing out of the hospital?"

"I was released today. I came to surprise you."

"Well, I'm pleasantly surprised." He grinned at the other. Then, he carefully hugged Matt and helped him to his feet.

"I wish I could stay longer, but I think my brother's cutting the end of class to go home early, so they're probably waiting in the car."

"Maybe we'll stop by later, then," Gilbert said, walking with Matthew toward the parking lot.

Matthew stopped, looking out the window at the parking lot with a sorrowful look on his face.

"What's wrong?" Gilbert asked immediately, searching Matt's face as if it held the answer.

"They left," he said softly, instantly looking even more upset now that it had been said aloud.

"Hey, don't worry. I drove Francis, Antonio and myself here this morning, so I've got a car. As soon as they get out of class, the four of us can head off and hang out somewhere other than a hospital room and then I can take you home after that."

"O-okay," Matthew replied, sniffling and trying his best not to let this get him down, even though it truly was doing so. Deciding to try to take his mind off things, he asked, "Wh-why aren't _you_ in class, anyway?"

"I was skipping," he said with a shrug. Then he looked Matt over. "You should probably be taking it easy. Let's find somewhere to sit and relax."

Matt nodded and the two of them found a bench to sit on in the hall. They sat in silence and Matt leaned against Gilbert. It was so comfortable there that it wasn't long before he was dozing. Gilbert found the sight so utterly endearing that he just let him sleep there. It was all ruined, though, when the bell went off, because Matt jerked awake at the shrill sound.

"It's just the bell," Gilbert soothed him, hoping to calm the distressed boy.

After a few moments, Matthew did calm down, and not a moment after that, Francis and Antonio appeared.

"You're out!" Francis exclaimed, pulling him from Gilbert's arms and into his own. "It's good to see you up and about."

Smiling and blushing, Matthew nodded. Then, very slowly, he returned the hug. Soon, Antonio joined and then Gilbert and they had a big group hug, not caring about the looks and raised eyebrows they were attracting. Not that the entire class didn't know Francis and Antonio were gay already, but that didn't meant they didn't get shit for it.

"All right, guys," Gilbert said, laughing. "Let's go to that new gelato place."  
"Sounds good to me!" Antonio exclaimed, getting out of the hug. The other two quickly followed suit and they all headed out to Gilbert's car.

"Mattie gets shotgun," Gilbert stated, sliding into the driver's seat.

"Of course he does," Francis commented in an amused voice, sliding in behind Gilbert.

Once they were all piled in, Gilbert drove them to the gelato place that he had mentioned. The four of them all went inside and straight up to the counter, just as someone was making their way out of the back.

"Ve~ Sorry. My shift just started. I hope you haven't been waiting long!" the boy gushed immediately, looking rather worried.

"We just got here, Feliciano," Gilbert said, cutting the boy off in the middle of his rant on how sorry was that they had to wait.

"Oh! That's good, then!" Feliciano exclaimed, grinning. "What can I get you?"

The four of them ordered and, after a bit of trouble finding what he was looking for, Feliciano gave them all their treats. Gilbert paid and then the four of them took over a large booth that could have easily and comfortably fit a larger group than theirs. They made themselves at home and chatted, just like they had all those days in the hospital. Matt felt much better now that he knew that _someone_ was still going to remember him. His own family didn't, and that was going to be hell, but as soon as he was allowed to go to school again, things would just get better still.

It seemed like no time had passed at all, when Francis checked his watch and said, "Gilbert, we need to go."

"Ja... Bruder's expecting me home soon," he said with a sigh and then reluctantly pushed himself up from the table.

They all went out to the car and took the same seats as before. Francis was dropped off first, then Antonio. Matthew quietly listened to the radio as they drove, dreading it as they made their way up his driveway.

"We're here," Gilbert said sadly.

"Yeah," Matthew replied, making no move to get out.

"I promise that I'll come visit you after school. Antonio and Francis might be busy with sports, though... But I'll be here. So cheer up, ja?" he attempted a bit of a smile.

"Only if you do," Matthew replied.

"I will. As soon as I see you again."

"Then that's when I'll cheer up too."

Gilbert gave a sad smile, and Matthew returned it with the same emotion. Then, Matthew got out of the car and walked into his house, completely unnoticed. His room was as he left it, only a bit dustier, as it had been neglected. He sighed and fell face forward onto his bed, wanting tomorrow to get there quickly.


	3. Alone

Tomorrow came and went for Matthew with not a sign of Gilbert. He frowned to himself, upset that he had gotten his hopes up. What reason was there for Gilbert to remember him now that he was out of the hospital? He sighed, picking at his hangnails and staring at the wall opposite him.

Lonely. That was all he felt. To anyone else, his house would seem warm and inviting. His family could be nice people very easily. In fact, Alfred was a very friendly, very popular kid. However, that didn't change the fact that he didn't remember his own brother. The house currently smelled of pot roast. Matthew figured that they were probably having potatoes with chives and some sort of vegetable with it as well. That was his favorite meal. He knew that his family was downstairs, talking and eating and having a good old time... But they had once again forgotten Matthew.

Wincing, he looked down. The spot where a hangnail had been a moment before was now bleeding profusely. Sticking his thumb into his mouth, he licked over the wound, the metallic taste of blood making its way onto his tongue. That was the most he'd have in his mouth for awhile. He didn't have the guts to go down and ask his family why they had forgotten him and get food. His personality was far too timid for that.

Sighing, he curled up on his side, ignoring the rumble in his stomach. Matthew Williams. Who was that? Did it even matter? No, of course it didn't matter. If it did, no one would forget the name. The name of this small Canadian boy didn't matter to a single soul. He was insignificant. A tiny speck of dust in the wide universe. Nothing special. Nothing worth looking at... Nothing worth taking up space and breathing air. Nothing worth living.

His thoughts were dark again. He couldn't see why Gilbert had saved him, especially since the guy didn't seem to have any interest in him any more. He had said he'd be over to visit him today and he had promised that he wouldn't forget... And yet Matthew had no other explanation than that he had forgotten. A part of him wished that he had Gilbert's number so that he could call him, but another part argued that he wouldn't have called anyway because he's a sissy and wouldn't want to seem like a whiny bitch.

Curling up on his side on the bed, he stared at the boring white walls of his room, imagining how they would look splattered with red... the red of his blood... possibly with bits of organ in there as well, if he decided a gun would be the best way to rid the world of himself. After all, he was just a waste of space.

So Matthew sat there, envisioning tons of different ways too off himself until he fell asleep, only to have dreams of himself doing that very same thing.

A few days went by like this. The first few, Matthew actually got up and got himself something to eat, but after awhile, he just stopped caring. He rarely got himself up out of bed. Another thing he found was that he relished in the pain. Whenever he would feel himself getting bored, he would poke at his arm, which hurt like hell. Of course, he didn't feel like getting up to take painkillers... though... he was pretty sure if he took the entire bottle of his prescription, that would kill him... And it wouldn't be nearly as gruesome as some of the other deaths that he'd imagined for himself.

Then again... he didn't even have the willpower to get up and go to get the pills in the first place. He sighed for the umpteenth time that day, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. When was the last time he had gotten out of bed...? He couldn't remember. When was the last time he had eaten? That too, he couldn't remember. So wasting away was the route he had chosen for his death. He would just lay in the bed. Eventually, his body would start to rot and the smell would be putrid enough that his family would have to come in and take care of the body. What would they think of him? Would they just assume that somehow some animal had gotten in, or some stranger broke into the house, or would they truly realize that it was their own flesh and blood, laying there, wasted and broken. If they did know that it was him laying there dead, would they understand why he did it? Would they know that it was their fault that he had died? Or would their consciences just tell them not to think about it so that they wouldn't have to feel the terrible guilt. Because without a doubt, his death would be their fault. They didn't think to come in and check on him to be sure that he was okay. So they could deal with his body.

Even though it hadn't been long, Matthew's body was already beginning to show the signs of wasting away. His eyes were dull and sunken in and his skin was loose. If you were to pull on it, it wouldn't have the elasticity that it should and snap right back into place, but instead it would slowly go back to its original resting place on his bones. His hair was an unkempt, tangled, greasy mass on his head. The only shine to it was from said grease. The scent of his body already wasn't the best as he hadn't bothered getting up to shower. And all he had done was lie around in his sheets, still wearing blankets even when he got hot, his sweat soaking into his clothes, sheets and mattress. If, by some miracle, you were able to get him to smile, you would see that his gums weren't the normal, healthy pink, but a slightly paler color. They would only get worse as time went on. All in all, he was a mess. A mess, and quite pitiable. Not that anyone would pity him. They don't remember him enough to do so.

He just kept wasting away... unnoticed.

Nobody said a word when he missed his therapy appointment. No one from the school called, asking when or if he'd be back in. As far as Matthew knew, not a soul came to visit him to see if he was okay, to see if he was healing, to see if he needed company. It was obvious to the poor, ever weakening boy that no one cared. No one. Not his family, not his so called friends... he didn't even care about himself any more.


	4. Making Attempts

Matthew had decided to give up. Gilbert wasn't coming for him and didn't care any more. The boy was sick of just waiting for death. He lifted his weak body up off of the mattress and went to the bathroom, quickly finding his prescription in the medicine cabinet. After filling a cup with water, he downed the pills one by one, as they were too large for him to take more than that at a time. He didn't want to choke. That would be a far too boring way to die, especially after he had gone about the trouble of making it to the bathroom to take the pills. To die in a way other than what he planned now would just be a tragedy.

As the pills made their way into his system, Matthew couldn't help but feel alright. This was how things were meant to be. He felt like he was soaring, though whether that was because the pills were making him high or because he was dying, he didn't know. But honestly, it didn't matter. What mattered now was not who Matthew Williams was. That never matter. It didn't matter that this was yet another time that he was attempting to off himself. Nobody cared about that anyway. What _did_ matter was that he was getting out of everyone's hair. His waste of space would be no more. He would be gone, cease to exist. His memory was already erased from peoples' minds, now it was to be erased from their sights, not that they ever saw him in the first place. But now it simply didn't matter. He wouldn't be there, feeling depressed at not being noticed. His feelings had never mattered in the first place. All that ever mattered was his superstar athlete brother, who was popular and nearly failing most of his class, only managing to pass through all the cheating he did. The brainiac brother, who got good grades and would probably do something more with his life than sports, didn't matter in the slightest. And now what he would have done with his life would forever be a mystery as his consciousness was being pulled into oblivion by the drugs, and his body would cease to function before too much longer.

Ah, it was on its way. Sweet oblivion. He could feel it coming on. If he had enough connection to his body, he would hold out his arms and embrace it. This was better than anything he could have ever hoped for and—

—what on Earth was that beeping noise? Wasn't he supposed to be dead? Was hell a mass of annoying noises that just repeated over and over to annoy the fuck out of you and torture you in that way? If it was, it was certainly working.

Gilbert had been trying for quite some time now to gain access to Matthew's home. The boy's parents didn't recognize Gilbert, so they wouldn't let him in, and they insisted that they only had one son: Alfred. So Gilbert had been unable to fulfill his promise to Matthew. He hated this! He couldn't even let the kid know why he wasn't there because he didn't have his fucking number!

Rejected day after day after day, Gilbert was sick of it. He would get in to see Matthew. Agilely, he scaled the garden trellis that went up the side of the house. Then, he snuck a knife in between the widow and where it was closed, then eased the window open and slipped inside. Why hadn't he tried this sooner?

Of course, now came the problem of finding Matt's room before he was spotted. He'd never been in this house before, so he didn't know his way around it. The best he could do was open doors and check behind them. As he was getting to the end of the hall, he opened one door onto what happened to be the bathroom. What he saw was Matthew's body stretched out across the ground with a stupid look on his face and an empty pill bottle on the ground next to him. A quick check for signs of life and he called for an ambulance, yet again. Of course, when it got there, Matthew's parents were extremely confused, and once they loaded up Matthew, Gilbert made them let him come along as well. He wasn't going to let this kid die on him, no matter how much the boy wanted to leave this Earth.

~~~  
Matthew slowly opened his eyes. He wasn't dead and in hell. He was in the hospital again. His attempt at death had again been unsuccessful. Looking to the right of his bed, he saw that the reason he was alive was again due to the same person as before.

"Really, Matthew?" Gilbert asked sternly once he'd ascertained that the boy was awake. "Again?"

"I-I thought y-you forgot about me," he said in a hoarse voice. Damn, did his throat hurt! It wasn't any better that he was all choked up, ready to start crying.

"I never forgot about you. You're fucking parents did, and since they didn't recognize me, they wouldn't let me in the fucking house and I didn't have your fucking number, so I couldn't fucking call you to let you know that I still care! You should have gotten better and then come to school before fucking attempting suicide _again_," Gilbert ranted, looking more and more upset as he did.

"I'm so sorry," Matthew said, voice even shakier than before.

"You should be. Do you know how much it sucks to find someone as sweet and innocent and cute as you, lying half dead on the floor _twice_?"

"N-no... I'm so sorry," he said, more tears coming to his eyes.

"You should be. And just so you know, you're never going back to that house. I am going to keep an eye on you twenty-four-seven," he said matter-of-factly. "You're coming home with me, whether you like it or not."

Matthew's eyes lit up a little at that. Living somewhere where he would always be remembered? That sounded like heaven! "Okay," he agreed immediately. "For now... can you stay with me?"

"Of course." This time, Gilbert's voice was much softer than it had been the entire time he was talking.

Matthew nodded and smiled. "I'm going to... stop talking now, though... My throat..." He put a hand to it, rubbing it and looking in pain.

"I understand," Gilbert said. "Considering what they had to do to get the pills out and all. Just relax and get better. I'll stay by your side as long as you want me to... or at least, as long as the hospital staff will let me. But stop trying to kill yourself. Got it?"

Matthew nodded, fingers curling in the sheets.

Gilbert made a satisfied noise at that and plopped into the seat next to Matthew, reaching out and grabbing his hand.

"Just a warning," Gilbert began, "I may be late coming to visit tomorrow... or I might not come at all, depending on how much trouble this is... Francis, Antonio and I are moving your stuff to my house. I imagine that your parents will give us quite a bit of trouble... But it's got to be done."

Matthew nodded again and whispered, "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," Gilbert said. "Also, I hope you don't mind sharing. We don't have any extra rooms, so you'll be staying in mine. My bed should be plenty big enough for the two of us... if that's not too gay for you." Gilbert smirked a bit at the thought, as if he was enjoying his own private joke.

Matthew gave him the thumbs up so that Gilbert knew he was okay with it.

Gilbert smiled and then he provided enough conversation for the two of them, commenting on his own awesomeness, telling Matt that he's too awesome to off himself, and filling Matthew in on all the gossip floating around the school, along with what he thought was true of it, and what he thought was a load of bullshit. All around, it was a rather enjoyable stay, until Gilbert had to leave. Matthew made him give him a hug before he left, having been devoid of human contact for quite some time.


	5. The Stuff Debate

Matthew was lonely. He knew that Gilbert was going to be late in coming, if at all, but that still didn't stop him from hoping. It was nice to have someone by his side, even if he couldn't talk to the person. Gilbert was never short on conversation.

The end of visiting hours came and went and still no word from Gilbert. Matthew could feel himself sinking into depression again, thinking that he had just dreamed up yesterday. But no! Of course he hadn't! They'd exchanged numbers. So, he decided to send Gilbert a quick text, just to assuage his worries and to make himself feel a bit better.

_How are things going?_ he typed, not really expecting a reply.

_Shitty. Your parents don't want to give your things up... We may need to do something a bit more drastic, though I'm hoping it doesn't come to that._

_What do you mean 'drastic'?_

_Don't worry about it. It won't come to that._

_I wouldn't be so sure if I was you._

_Well, you're not me. I'm more than sure about everything that I do because I'm just that awesome. :D_

_You're also really full of yourself._ Matthew couldn't help but to giggle. Gilbert may be an idiot, but he was still a good guy... a really sweet guy.

_Well, 'Tonio's bugging me to get back to work here. Don't worry. I'll bust you out of there asap, but I wanna get your stuff first, if I can._

_Okay. You have no idea how much I appreciate this._

_You don't know that. And I'm just glad I can help. For real this time, I'm going. Be safe, you idiot._

_I'm not an idiot!_

But he got no reply to that last text. However... he was rather certain that Gilbert was probably laughing his head off. The thought made him smile, because he loved it when people he cared about were so happy that they couldn't contain their laughs. The thought of Gilbert laughing after their text conversation is what got Matthew through that long night.

"Hey. Wake up, you idiot."

"I'm not an idiot," Matthew groaned, rolling onto his side, only to regret it immediately and roll back onto his back.

"Come on, I'm busting you out of this place, like I promised."

Matthew opened his eyes to see a smiling Gilbert... But something looked out of place. He looked so... tense. Like he was frustrated and holding it in.

"What's wrong?" Matthew asked sleepily, sitting up.

"Your fucking idiotic parents, that's what's wrong," Gilbert fumed. He wasn't really one to hide when he was annoyed, after all. "I want to just knock them out and go take all of your stuff."

"That doesn't sound like a good idea." Matthew looked down, only to realize that he'd already been unhooked from the machines.

"I know. That's why I've got to resort to my next plan. I _will_ get your stuff for you, but in the meantime, you're going to stay somewhere that you're not all alone so that I know you're safe. Oh. And they say that I have to take you out in the wheelchair. Sorry."

"Ugh... I hate the wheelchairs. I'm depressed, not handicapped," he groaned.

Gilbert smiled sympathetically. "I'm parked right by the entrance. The humiliation will be minimal, and if not, I can sit and hold you like Francis does when Antonio finds that he forgot tomatoes on his sandwich."

Matthew giggled. "Does he really get that worked up over a sandwich?"

"No. He gets worked up over the tomatoes."

"Okay, now you're really just pulling my leg."

"No," Gilbert said, grabbing one of Matt's legs and gently but playfully giving it a tug. "_Now_ I'm just pulling your leg." He gave his signature grin and Matthew could feel his heart lift.

"Alright. I'll get in the damn chair." He moved to it, all of a sudden feeling really weak, and rather grateful that the damn thing was there. He settled into it and Gilbert pushed him out to the car.

"Why are you so awesome?" Matthew asked, looking up at Gilbert from his spot in the chair.

"Because I was born like that," he said, smirking again. "It's just how I am, sorry if you can't handle it."

"Of course I can handle it!"

"Of course you can. You're awesome as well. Though, you have bouts of idiocy."

"Well, we can't all be perfect."

This time, Gilbert's voice was softer than ever. "But you can try."

Matthew blushed faintly and moved from the chair to the car to hide it. "Thanks, Gil."

"You're always welcome," he replied easily, wheeling the chair back before getting into the driver's seat and heading off.

Matthew was excited. He had never been to a friend's house as he had never really had friends. And since he had never been to a friend's house, he had certainly never spent the night. So many new experiences would be occurring for him now that he was out of the oppressive atmosphere that was his own house. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice when Gilbert parked his car in a three-car garage.

"Whoa... are you like... rich or something?" he asked in awe.

"Yeah, sorta. We've got old money, and my family's rather... utilitarian, so we don't spend it frivolously... well... they don't." He grinned a bit. "So, I apologize for the boring décor of the house, but if you need some reprieve from it, my room is pretty damn awesome."

"Of course your room is awesome. How could someone as awesome as you not have an awesome room befitting of their awesomeness?" Matthew giggled at the overuse of the word.

Gilbert blushed a little. Not at what Matthew was saying, but at how cute he was when he giggled. "Yeah! Awesome!" he said in reply, not knowing what else to reply with.

Matthew giggled again. "You're so enthusiastic all the time. I love it."

"Thanks," Gilbert said, then looked momentarily lost in thought. "Hey... I should have asked you... do you like dogs?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because that's the only 'frivolous' thing we have. Three dogs. Though, my parents claim that they're watch dogs. But in truth, they're all bark and no bite. They wouldn't hurt a fly... Wait... yes they would... if they see flies, they try and chase them and eat them... But never mind that. They're harmless to humans."

Matthew giggled once again. "That sounds funny... A dog chasing a fly."

"Yeah, it is pretty ridiculous," Gilbert agreed. "So, are you getting out of the car or what?"

"Actually... I need a bit of help," Matthew admitted.

"Oh," Gilbert said lamely, before making his way around and helping Matthew up. He lifted him into his arms, a little saddened by how light he was, and then made his way inside, dogs jumping all over him immediately.

"Down!" Gilbert barked. Matthew was surprised when the animals obeyed the command right away. "Go find mein bruder. I need to get this kid fattened up."

The dogs ran off, coming back a bit later with an annoyed looking blond man following in their wake.

"What do you want?" the annoyed blond asked, his voice heavily accented in what Matthew assumed was German.

"This is Matthew. The kid that I told you about. He weighs nothing. So now we need to fatten him up. Go make something to eat... Unless... you want me to use the kitchen."

Gilbert's brother looked horrified at the mere thought. "No. I'll make you something. Will you be in your room?"

"Ja."

With a nod, the man ran off to the kitchen.

"That was mein younger brother, Ludwig."

"Younger? But... he's..."

"Huge? Ja, I know. It's just his build... and he works out." Gilbert shrugged, Matthew moving up in his arms when he did.

"Oh." This time, it was Matt's turn to use the single, lame syllable.

The two made their way through the boring, undecorated halls into a room that was... well... shockingly different. The walls were painted bright red, rather than white, posters decorated their colorful surface. The bed was unmade and clothes were strewn about haphazardly.

"Wow... this is quite different from the rest," Matthew said.

"Ja. They try and make me conform, but... I don't like it super tidy. I mean... sure, I could pick up my clothes and make my bed, but... I'm just lazy."

Matthew smiled at the admittance. "Well, can you try and keep the clothes off to the side while I'm around? I don't want to trip and kill myself."

"Oh gott... I should." After setting Matthew down on the bed, Gilbert kicked the clothes to the side so that Matthew wouldn't trip on them.

This was to be the beginning of the true healing. Matthew could feel it this time.

**A/N:** I have to thank Koharu Kage for the idea for what I'm building to in the next chapter. So thank you so much! (Also, that's why I love reviews. 3)


	6. Cute Little Things

**A/N:** To the anon who commented on it, watching a dog try to catch flies is indeed an amusing thing to see. My dog does it and that's where I got the idea for it.

Matthew was sitting on the edge of Gilbert's bed, playing with the cute little bird that the boy kept. With Gilbert's usual demeanor, one wouldn't expect him to have such a cute little thing as a pet. If Matthew had been guessing, he would have thought that one of the dogs belonged to him, but as it turned out, they all belonged to his younger brother.

Gilbert was out again, making another attempt at getting Matthew's stuff from his home. Really, Matthew was beginning to think that endeavor was hopeless. Besides, other than his stuffed polar bear, he didn't care much for his things. They were just material possessions, none of which held any sentimental value as no one really remembered him enough to give him something that he would cherish.

_Hey... when are you coming back? I'm feeling really lonely._ Matthew texted, scooting back on the bed to sit against the wall. He was really getting used to the wall, as Gilbert moved a lot in his sleep and tended to push Matt into it. That's why Matthew slept against the wall. The first night, Gilbert pushed him out of bed, and the poor kid felt horrible about it.

_It could be awhile. I'm not dealing with your parents any more._

_Then what's going on...?_ Now Matthew was confused. If Gilbert wasn't dealing with his parents, then who was he dealing with in order to make it so that he wouldn't be back home for awhile...?

_Don't worry about it for now._

_I can't help but to worry._

_Do you want me to see if I can get Francis to come over for you? Then you two can chat up in your cute little 'Francais' while baking cute little cakes._

Matthew blushed at that description. Gilbert sure did use cute quite a bit to describe him. Whatever. He could have fun with Francis while 'baking cute little cakes.' He was certain that Gilbert would like that. Last time Francis and Matthew had been together, they made a ton of food (Matthew found that he had a passion for cooking as well!) and Gilbert ate... well... almost all of it. _Yeah, I don't trust myself to be alone right now. Please send him over, if you can._

There was about five minutes while Matthew was just sitting there, fidgeting with the little bird looking up at him nervously before Matthew got another text: _He'll be over soon._

What a relief. Now the only thing that Matthew had to do was wait for Francis... Waiting... Matthew hated waiting, especially now. He constantly fretted that the other person was just going to forget about him and never meet up, like they had promised to and he would be let down and lonely. If that happened... well, Matthew was pretty sure that something like that might just cause him to revert and do something completely stupid that would have Gilbert really upset.

Luckily, it didn't have to come to that as Francis came right over, texting him random things on the way so as to keep him company. That was also what let Matthew know when the man got there.

"Hello," he said, as cheerily as he could manage.

"Bonjour. Cheri, I see you still haven't gotten fattened up! I guess that means cooking it is!" he said, being very upbeat so as not to give Matthew a chance to be down. Matthew couldn't help but to smile and follow the Frenchman into Gilbert's kitchen and started looking around to see what ingredients the guy had laying around—it was definitely more than he used to have, as Francis made sure since he started becoming Matthew's sort-of babysitter while Gilbert was doing whatever he was doing.

Of course, Matthew's mind kept wandering back to that, even as he and Francis were working their magic in the kitchen. Maybe... maybe Francis would know what's going on and be willing to let Matthew in on the secret... Maybe Francis would be easy to work it out of, if it came to that.

"Hey, Francis...?" he began in a way that obviously meant that he'd be continuing on in a questioning tone.

"Oui? What is it?" he asked, glancing up from whatever he had going on in the frying pan to look at the golden-haired boy.

"You know what Gilbert's doing that he can't come home, right...?"

"I do, but it's not really something he wants me to discuss."

"Why not? It's got me worried... I'm constantly thinking over why he would be keeping secrets from me, and I worry that maybe he doesn't really like spending time with me, and that's why he sends you to do it." Matthew gave Francis his best kicked puppy dog face, hoping that he looked like someone who absolutely _needed_ to know the information that he was asking after.

"It's not that, I promise!" Francis said quickly, wanting to make sure that Matthew didn't get upset. That was the last thing that he wanted right now, particularly because Gilbert would get after him if he found out that Francis made the boy upset, even if it was over this particular subject.

"How do I know that you're not just covering for him?" Matthew's eyes were teary with real tears. He was just letting out all of his insecurities on Francis, and while he knew it wasn't fair, he couldn't help it. What he had started wasn't going back in. "After all, you were his friend first."

"O-okay, okay, I'll tell you the truth," Francis said quickly, turning off his burner so that the food wouldn't become inedibly overdone. "Just promise me that you won't tell him that I told you, oui?"

"O-oui," Matthew said shakily.

"He is talking to a court because your parents won't give up your stuff. He's going after them for child neglect. Because truthfully, you wouldn't be like this if they hadn't neglected you so much."

"H-he would do that... for me...?" Matthew asked, the tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes.

"Oui," Francis said, pulling him against his chest. "They are not fit to be parents. Particularly because of the fact that they could neglect someone as sweet as you."

"Y-you're just t-trying to flatter me s-so I won't cry," Matthew accused.

"I am doing no such thing. I really and truly believe it. You are such a kind-hearted boy and you let everything get to you far too much."

Matthew smiled just a bit, then wiped his tears and pulled away. "You c-can get back to cooking. I'll be fine."

Francis smiled back and did as he was told, all the while blabbering away in his 'cute little Francais' to Matthew, who was responding back in the likewise manner.

When Gilbert did get home that evening, it was to find the two sitting on the couch and watching some sappy movie in French with empty bowls of ice cream set on the side tables.

Of course, he went and dug into their leftovers, enjoying it thoroughly, and letting them finish the movie before he let Francis leave the house and took Matthew up to bed. It was late at that point anyway, so he figured the kid could use some rest, and he knew that he could before the next day.


	7. Courtroom Three

"Hey, Matthew...?" Gilbert began. It was a few days after when Francis had divulged what Gilbert was doing to Matthew.

"What is it, eh?" Matthew asked, looking up from his cereal.

"Well... that thing I've been up to that I won't tell you about...? It involves you to the point that I kinda have to tell you because you need to be there when this goes down."

"It's okay. I already know," Matthew said, turning his gaze back to his cereal and spooning it into his mouth. He needed to keep eating it so that it wouldn't get too soggy. He didn't really like his cereal super soggy.

"Wh-what? How?" Gilbert spluttered, genuinely surprised.

"I kinda... got really upset... thinking that you didn't actually want to be with me, so... rather than see me cry, Francis told me," Matthew admitted sheepishly, chasing some of the cereal around the bowl to get it onto his spoon.

"I should have known," Gilbert grumbled.

"Can you really blame him, though, Gil? C'mon now. Don't tell me that you would just sit by and let me cry when you knew that you could say something to stop it."

Gilbert just grumbled and Matthew knew he was spot on with that one.

"Anyway, what about it?" Matthew asked, trying to hide his smile.

"The court date is a few days from now, and they want you to show up."

Matthew figured that was it. "Alright." That was all the answer that he needed to give.

~~~  
The days between that conversation and the court date passed quickly.

"Matthew, wake up," Gilbert said, prodding said boy in the ribs.

"Ow... just five more minutes," Matthew mumbled, turning over.

"Nope. You told me yesterday not to let you get to me with that," Gilbert said simply. "Now get your lazy ass up, or I'm flipping you out of bed."

"You wouldn't dare," Matthew retorted, lazily glaring up at him.

"Oh really?" Gilbert made as if he was about to fulfill that promise, and Matthew jumped up immediately, only to trip on the blankets, which had been kicked to the floor. As Matthew fell, he grabbed onto the nearest thing, bringing it down with him and landing on top of it. That thing just happened to be Gilbert.

"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed immediately, really flustered. He tried to get up, only to be restrained by a pair of arms that were much stronger than his frail body.

"Gott, Matthew. You're still really boney," Gilbert commented sadly, touching his ribs.

Blushing at the intimate contact, Matthew reminded him, "I need to get ready." He was let go and went to put on some of Gilbert's nice clothes, which hung off of him worse than all of the others.

"Sorry," Gilbert said, chuckling. Matthew was positively drowning in those clothes. "The last time that I had need of those, I was kinda chubby."

"You? Chubby?" Matthew was incredulous. "I don't believe that for a second!"

The two continued their banter all the way to the courthouse. However, any form of chatter ceased as they pulled into a parking space, and both fidgeted a bit nervously.

"Don't worry. This'll go my way. I got the best lawyers money can buy. Family friends, at that, who have been such for as long as I can remember and then some."

"W-well, that's good, eh," Matthew said, nervously sticking to Gilbert's side like glue as they made their way inside.

Gilbert gave the receptionist their case number. "That's being taken care of in Courtroom Three," she informed him and directed them to the room.

They didn't have long to wait before Gilbert's lawyer friends caught up with them and filled them in on how things would go.

It was when the family arrived that Matthew got even more nervous. But he didn't have long to dwell on that as the court session began shortly after.

Gilbert's lawyers had done a really good job on this case. They had doctors to testify on Matthew's condition with both times in the hospital as a factor, along with how much he had improved since moving in with his friend, school personnel to comment on the amount of blood in the bathroom the first time, Francis and Antonio were called to testify on Matthew's mentality since they had become friends, Gilbert talked about how horrified he was to find Matthew's nearly-corpse body both times, and then it was Matthew's turn. He was asked about a number of things, from how he felt at home to how his parents treated him, to how his relationship with his parents differed from that which they had with Alfred, to how he felt with Gilbert and his friends, to how much he was eating. He answered each question honestly, as he had promised to do when he had made his way up to the stand. And then they had to break while the jury made their decision.

"Gilbert, I'm nervous. I think I'm going to be sick," Matthew confessed, pacing the room with tears in his eyes. "What if they make me go back to them? I don't want to."

"I won't let them have you back. They don't deserve you." There was a hint of possessiveness in his voice.

"Thank you," Matthew said, hugging him tightly. Francis and Antonio joined the hug shortly after.

"If it comes down to it," Francis informed him, "we'll just break into your house and steal all of your stuff."

Matthew giggled halfheartedly and clung to Gilbert's hand, listening to his friends' reassurances while they awaited the decision.

After everyone had settled back into the room, Matthew still squeezing the life out of Gilbert's hand, the verdict was given.

"The court hereby grants Matthew Williams-Jones freedom from his parents, who are not fit to raise a child. As punishment for this behavior, Alfred Williams-Jones is to be relocated to a home, where his parents will only be able to visit him during supervised visits. The parents will not allowed to see Matthew. Both boys will be escorted home today, where they will pack up their belongings. Matthew will be taken back to his current caretaker's house, and Alfred will be taken to the home of this court's choosing," the judge informed the crowd.

Matthew could have cried of happiness. He was enveloped in another hug from all of his friends, but that had to end so that he could be taken to get his things.

"I'll see you at home," Gilbert said with a grin.

Matthew nodded. He followed the official looking man from the courthouse, where he was put into a car with Alfred. This wasn't going to be pleasant.

Once they were moving, Alfred scowled at him. "You're an ungrateful brat. I ought to teach you a lesson." He cracked his knuckles for emphasis.

"C-calm down, eh. It's not like that's what I was going for! B-besides! Mom and dad are the ones who wouldn't just give my stuff up!"

"That's because, like was said in the courtroom, they don't remember you. Do you know why they don't? Because they block your pathetic existence from their minds. They wish they had never birthed you. I wish it too. You're lucky that you weren't just thrown into the streets. I wish you would have died."

The rest of the car ride was spent with the driver scolding Alfred while Matthew huddled into his seat and cried.

Once they got out of the car, Alfred pushed Matthew, nearly making him fall to the ground. The two packed up their things, Alfred getting a few more snide remarks and hits in, and Matthew just taking it like his passive nature caused him to do. They were taken to their separate new homes in different cars after the incident and when Matthew got to Gilbert's house, he dropped his stuff in the entry way and went straight for Gilbert's bathroom, locking the door behind him and grabbing a razor for the cabinet. Why was he such a loathsome creature? Maybe the world really would be better off without him. He took the blades from the safety and contemplated them, remembering the feel of the mirror's glass in his arm and wondering if it would feel the same with this blade... He held the metal up to his arm.

A sharp knock sounded on the door. "Matthew, I was just told what happened. Unlock the door," Gilbert said, trying to be soothing and not sound worried.

"I just... need a moment."

"I don't trust you in there alone after that."

"I-I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. Now open the door."

Matthew dropped the blades on the counter and unlocked the door. Gilbert pushed it open immediately and pulled Matthew into his arms. "It's all going to get better now," he said softly.

Matthew gripped onto his shirt and cried his eyes out.

**A/N:** I'm not sure how a real court appearance would have gone, so that's why it's not terribly detailed. Who wants me to make an extra chapter at the end to show how Alfred's life is in his new home~?


	8. Feelings

Days went by and Matthew really seemed to be getting better. He was going back to being his normal self, with only slight bouts of depression now and again.

But then one day, everything changed. As he was sitting at the table, watching Gilbert make breakfast, he realized that he was falling for the man. He thought of him in a way that he'd never thought of any man before... or any woman, for that matter. While Gilbert was okay with gays—as was obvious by his relationship with Francis and Antonio—he also was extremely straight. Over the years, even before he showed that he knew that Matthew existed, he'd been a womanizer, who had girlfriend after girlfriend, going through them like a child goes through clothes when they're going through a growth spurt. That, and he joked and made fun of Francis and Antonio all the time, calling them fags, ass vandals, fruits, cocksuckers and the like. Matthew was sure that Gilbert was as straight as a ruler, so there was no way that the two would ever end up together. This was a secret he'd have to take with him to his grave.

When Gilbert turned around with the food, he noticed Matthew's dejected expression and slumped posture. The boy had been perfectly fine a moment before, but now he looked so forlorn that Gilbert's heart hurt. "Hey... what's wrong?" he asked tenderly, setting the plates down and bending over Matthew.

The boy jumped, as if he hadn't even noticed Gilbert until that moment. "N-nothing, eh," he stuttered, flushing slightly and looking at the plate set before him. "Thanks for this."

"Of course. Now eat up and stop looking so glum," Gilbert said, poking either side of his mouth and trying to push it up into a smile.

Matthew let his face stay in the shape that Gilbert pushed it into, a smile now there, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Gilbert heaved a sigh and sat next to him. "Matthew, if you end up hurting yourself over whatever you're thinking about, I'm going to be very upset. I don't need to find you nearly dead for a third time."

"I won't..." he mumbled, not sure if it was truth or not. Instead, he just ate the food that had been placed before him in utter silence.

Gilbert didn't like the quiet that filled the room, so he filled it with meaningless chatter about how poorly he was going to do on their upcoming exams, but how that didn't change his awesomeness. There were many things that he talked about, none of which Matthew really absorbed, but he sat there, pretending to listen nonetheless, and that was enough for Gilbert, who blabbered on and on, completely unaware of Matthew's true inattentiveness.

As oblivious as Gilbert was at that moment, he eventually did realize that Matthew was getting distant as time went past. Whenever he talked, he didn't get any signs of listening from Matthew, who just looked more and more despondent as time went on, and Gilbert did his best not to let that get to him as well.

"Francis," Gilbert said during their last school lunch together, "I'm worried. Matthew just sits there looking so..."

"Woebegone?" Francis asked in his usual dramatic fashion. "Oui. Antonio and I have noticed as well. What do you propose we do about it?"

"I don't know... I was hoping you might have an idea," he said truthfully. "As awesome as I am, this one's got me stumped. But... I hate not seeing him smile."

"Ah, young love!" Francis declared, grinning.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Gilbert stuttered.

"I mean you are becoming a... how do you say it..." Francis stopped for a moment to ponder, then continued, "butt pirate?"

Gilbert got really flustered at that, pushed away his chair, consequently knocking it over, and then storming off.

Matthew blinked and looked over to Francis. "What's wrong with him?"

"Oh, he's just confused over matters of the heart," Francis said, smiling warmly at him.

"Oh," Matthew said, not knowing what else to respond with and going back to being downhearted.

Francis realized then what was wrong. Matthew was in love with the seemingly straight Gilbert. If only Gilbert himself could see this and realize that nothing was wrong with falling for someone.

~~~  
It was the middle of the night, right after Gilbert had stormed off away from Francis. Matthew couldn't sleep. He was tossing and turning, jealousy coursing through him at whoever had gained Gilbert's affections when he couldn't. Carefully, he climbed over Gilbert's sleeping form and headed off to the bathroom, turning on the lights, not caring that they hurt his eyes.

Matthew stared long and hard at himself in the mirror, trying to figure out what he could change to make himself more appealing. His hair was already growing to a more feminine length, and because his body still didn't seem to want to gain back the extra fat, he even had a bit of a womanly physique. Matthew pulled off his clothes and continued to look at himself. It had be the fact that he still had male appendages. All he wanted right now was Gilbert, and if he had to take matters into his own hands to get him, he would.

Matthew made his way to the small trash in the bathroom and rummaged in it until he found the razor blades that he had contemplated using on himself just the other day. He held them to his skin, ready to make another cut, but then he just couldn't bring himself to do it. After flinging them against the opposite wall, he pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and sobbing.

It was probably twenty minutes after that when Matthew heard knocking on the bathroom door. Then again, he didn't have a time telling device on him and it might have just seemed longer than it really was.

"Y-yeah?" he asked, and his voice cracked in a way that made it obvious that he wasn't just sitting in there for the fun of it.

"Can I come in...?"

"I'm naked..." Matthew didn't want Gilbert to see him so vulnerable and crying.

"Did you hurt yourself...?

"I-I was going to... but no."

Gilbert's voice was full of relief. "Thank god," he murmured. "Now... you never gave me a straight answer. Can I come in?"

Matthew laughed sadly at the thought of anything being 'straight'. "I guess," he replied.

Gilbert slowly opened the door and made his way inside. "Hey..." he said, sitting down net to him and wrapping his arms around the naked body, pulling him to his chest. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong...?"

Matthew really didn't want to. He was worried that he would lose Gilbert's friendship if he did, so he shook his head.

"Why not...?"

"I-it concerns you."

"Well, I don't want you being upset over something that I can fix," Gilbert told him softly.

"I don't know that you can fix it," he mumbled.

"Tell me and I'll be the judge of that."

"Promise you won't hate me," Matthew said, almost desperately, tears threatening to spill again.

"I promise," Gilbert replied, entirely serious.

"I-I love you."

At first, Gilbert was shocked at the revelation, but then he realized what his feelings had been all along. "I love you too," he replied softly, pulling Matthew into a tighter embrace.


	9. Depression Diminished

The first night after Matthew admitted his love for Gilbert was spent with him in Gilbert's arms, crying in relief. It was nice to know that he wasn't going to be shunned for something that he couldn't help but to feel. Not only was he not being given the cold shoulder like he had feared, but his feelings were reciprocated. The tears just wouldn't stop. He was happy and relieved and just... his heart felt lighter now that he had that off his chest and wasn't dealing with it alone. The two fell asleep in one another's arms, and Matthew didn't end up pressed against the wall like usual, but instead he was pressed tightly against Gilbert's chest.

Then, there were exams. Gilbert was stressed as it was, and then he had to worry about Matt as well, who was constantly on the verge of tears. Whenever they could, they studied together, but they weren't able to do that with everything. Their language classes, for example, were different and it wasn't something that one could easily help the other with. Luckily for Matthew, that was the one thing that he didn't really need to worry about, as he had gotten rather fluent in it, and even had knowledge from before he was taking the class. But just about everything else was stumping him and he was certain that he was going to fail all of his classes. A few times, they would both just be forced to take a break, more for Matthew's sake than anything. Generally, Gilbert would hold his new love and console him, reminding him that he was smart, and his grades were good enough that even if he didn't take the tests, he could still pass his classes. Once Matthew was calm, he would make them some snacks and they would fuel up so their minds would be sharper as they tried to cram in every last bit of information possible into their aching, over worked brains.

But then, exams were over. They were free for the summer. No more stress from school to push down upon them, only the beach to call them and parties to attend.

A couple of weeks into summer, Gilbert woke up alone in his bed. He was confused, especially after becoming used to waking up with Matthew in his arms. Worriedly, he made his way to the bathroom, checking there first to see if the boy was having problems with his depression again, but the bathroom door was wide open and no one was inside. Gilbert's uneasiness with the situation grew at this point, and he was sure that he was going to run downstairs and find Matthew with one of the kitchen knives in his hand and a long cut in one of his arms. Rushing, he made his way to the kitchen and found Matthew.

"Good morning, eh," he said, turning to Gilbert with the very kitchen knife that Gilbert had pictured in his head only moments ago. Not only that, but the knife had red on it.

"What did you do?" Gilbert asked in horror, eyes wide as he looked at the knife.

"Oh, I'm sorry about the mess. I'll clean it up! Don't worry."

"I am worried. You were with me when I woke up and you're holding a knife dripping red and—"

Matthew cut him off, even though that was something he normally would not do. "It's strawberries, Gil."

"Straw... berries...?" Gilbert repeated dumbly, looking at the knife, then Matthew, then the counter. There were strawberries covering the surface of it. "Oh..."

"Oui," Matthew said, smiling just a bit. "I'm getting ready to make some strawberry pancakes."

"Oh gott... that sounds delicious," Gilbert said with a grin.

So Matthew got back to work and it wasn't much longer before they got to eat the delicious concoctions. And they were the best pancakes that Gilbert had ever eaten. (Granted, the only kind he had ever had were just plain pancakes, and they weren't made from scratch, but from a box of mix that was in the cupboard.)

As the summer wore on, Gilbert stopped jumping to the conclusion that whenever Matthew wasn't in his awesome presence, he must be off trying to hurt himself. With the therapy and help from his new, good friends, Matthew was improving more and more with every day, even becoming a little outgoing. But still, the person that he loved to be with most was Gilbert.

(**A/N:** This next bit's leading into smut, for those of you who wanted. Skip to the next A/N if you don't want to read it.)

Matthew and Gilbert were on the couch, watching one of Matthew's sappy romance films. Gilbert, as much as he was loathe to admit it, was a sucker for these films. While he would always complain when Matthew wanted to watch one, he secretly enjoyed every minute of it. Especially because Mattie got really into the films. He would hold Gilbert's hand, lean into him, kiss his hand or cheek, sob, shout at the screen, and sigh at different points, always absorbed completely. Gilbert... well, he was interested in this film, but much more interested in Matthew. As the actors shared a heated kiss on the television screen, he carefully turned Matthew's face toward him and delivered a passionate kiss of his own.

With little hesitation, the kiss was returned, and soon grew deeper. Gilbert pull Matthew onto his lap until he was being straddled, then brought his hands up to tangle them in Matthew's soft golden hair. It always surprised him that a man could have hair like that. Nonetheless, he loved it. His fingers moved in circles on Matthew's scalp, massaging it as well as making his hair a mess.

The kiss lasted until Matthew pulled away for air. Normally, Gilbert would press a soft kiss to his nose and then rest their foreheads together until they had both calmed down, but today he wanted to go further. His kisses were trailed down the smooth white skin of Matthew's neck. With no objections coming from his lover, Gilbert undid Matthew's shirt and made his way down the lean chest. Matthew had very little fat; his body just didn't seem to want to gain weight, and it took a lot of work just to get him to the point he was at now. Gilbert's lips went to work, kissing every inch of skin they could reach before coming up to kiss Matt's lips again.

Matthew's arms immediately wrapped back around Gilbert and he pressed against him, trapping Gilbert's hands between them as Gilbert had tried to move his hands to play with Matthew's nipples.

Slowly, Gilbert moved so that Matthew was laying on the couch and he was hovering over him. The movie was still playing, but neither of them really cared now.

"T-take your shirt off too," Matthew stuttered, his face flushing a pleasant shade of crimson.

Gilbert sat up and removed his own shirt, then moved down and kissed Matthew again, playing with his nipples as Matthew arched up into him.

"G-Gil!" he moaned, eyes fluttering closed.

"Matt," Gilbert whispered hotly in his ear, "you're so hot." He pushed his hips down against his lover's, grinding slowly. The two of them were quickly getting turned on, bodies heating up as they moved.

"I w-want to take off my clothes," Matt whined, getting really warm, as well as uncomfortable with his erection straining in his pants.

Gilbert moved off of him and removed first Matthew's clothes and then his own before pressing against him again.

"P-please," Matthew moaned, eyes fluttering.

"Please what?" Gilbert asked huskily.

"I want you." His face flushed. He knew they were both well prepared as they had looked this up long ago, but he was still nervous.

Gilbert nodded, moving off of him to grab some lubricant. He came back, covering his fingers with it. "Relax," he whispered, fingering the ring of muscles before pushing one in. Matthew gasped at the penetration. "Shhh..." Gilbert whispered. He moved down and began licking Matthew's member, testing the grounds to see what he was comfortable. Gilbert pushed another finger in, starting to suck on the tip of his dick. Matthew was moaning, doing his best to stay relaxed, even when he felt uncomfortable. At a snap decision, Gilbert took in all of Matthew, choking on him while Matthew cried out in pleasure. Taking the opportunity, the third finger was added and soon Matthew was ready.

"I'm going in," Gilbert whispered, pulling his fingers out and smearing lubricant on himself. Then, after giving Matthew a moment to steel himself, he thrust in with a rather lewd moan.

Matthew was clinging to Gilbert, panting. "I-it hurts."

"I can pull out," Gilbert offered, starting to move out.

Matthew moaned. "D-dieu! Don't stop!"

Taking that as a good sign, Gilbert pulled out more and then slowly thrust back in.

"G-Gil!" Matthew moaned, pushing back onto him.

A pace was quickly set and they moved with each other, the sound of bodies slamming together and moans echoing throughout the room. Soon, they both climaxed and then held each other close.

"Don't tell my parents we did it here," Gilbert said once he'd calmed, motioning to the couch. "Let's move to my room and clean up."

Matthew nodded and shakily stood, then they made their way to Gilbert's room and cuddled there until they fell asleep.

(**A/N:** End of smut.)

Matthew and Gilbert grew closer and closer. They were dreading the day that they would have to go back to school. But they would face it together. Even college wouldn't ruin their relationship. The two of them would spend the rest of their lives together, with very few problems with Matthew's depression. They were more than happy together, and never lost touch with Francis and Antonio, throughout all the years of their lives.

**A/N:** This is the last we hear from Matt and Gil. The next/last chapter is Alfred's, as voted by you people. I love my readers/reviewers so much. Thanks for sticking with me and I'm sad to see this story coming to a close.


	10. Alfred's Side

The first thing that happened to Alfred after his brother had completely ruined his life is that he was moved from place to place. He had grown up living in the northern United States, close to Canada, but as they moved him, he went further and further south, and the heat was unbearable. The homes he was sent to as they were trying to find him a permanent place of residence sucked. They were small and crowded. He had to share a room with dozens of others, and the bathroom wasn't even private. It was almost like a public restroom, only there were multiple showers. The once popular kid shuddered to think that he'd have to _share_ things. He was so used to being spoiled and having everything that he wanted, when he wanted it. The meals that he was served were extremely bland and boring, simply meant for nutrition, not pleasure. Alfred, as much as he disgusted himself by doing it, took fewer showers, paranoid that he was being watched by numerous pairs of small eyes, never getting a moment to himself. On top of all of that, he was slowly "losing" things, though he was pretty sure that all of his things were being stolen by the little rats that lived in those homes. Because of them, he even took to wearing his shoes to bed so that they wouldn't be taken, not that any of the kids could fit them anyway, because his feet were rather huge, and seemed even more so when compared to the feet of those children.

Finally, the day came that he was assigned to a permanent home. The couple came to pick him up, and didn't even offer to help him with his things, not that it mattered as all he had were a few changes of clothes that were getting increasingly ratty and the shoes on his feet. He had no socks.

The woman was heavy and the man looked like he wished that he wished he lived in the Old West. Of course, it didn't really surprise Alfred as he had made his way to Texas through the switching of homes. God, it was hot. He hoped that the couple had air conditioning. That was something that he had certainly taken for granted, and that he missed a lot.

"You must be Alfred!" the woman exclaimed, throwing her bulky arms around him and squeezing him against her voluminous bosom.

"Y-yeah, that's me," Alfred said, awkwardly hugging her back. He was only putting up with being suffocated by her overly large—and not in a good way—chest because this couple was going to be his savior from the hell of the homes for displaced children.

"What a cute accent!" she said, holding him at arms length. "Cletis, don't he sound cute, what with that northern accent and all?" The woman was all beams.

"Yeah, Betty-Sue, he does. Can we get 'im home now?"

"Sure, sure," she said. "Get yer stuff and let's go."

The two turned and walked off to their car without waiting for Alfred. He hurried after them and sat in the cramped back seat of their pickup truck, which was obviously not meant for someone like him to sit in. Inside of the car, it was stifling. The couple only had their windows cracked, and the air barely gave Alfred relief from the stench that was coming off Cletis. He smelled like manure.

Once the car was stopped outside the house, Alfred was simply given directions to the room that he was to share with a kid named Billy, who was taken in by the two of them off of the streets. Doing as he told, Alfred found that the room that he was sharing was the only one in the house with proper a/c. The only thing was, though, that Billy... well... he wasn't someone that Alfred wanted to be near all the time. Billy was a dark teen, who seemed to be practicing some sort of black magic or something...? Alfred wasn't sure. But he saw that Billy already had a picture of him taped to a dart board. So Alfred didn't linger, but dropped his meager belongings and ran back down to Cletis and Betty-Sue to see what they wanted from him now, or to see if he was going to actually going to get a tour of the house.

"There you are. What took ya so long?" Cletis asked as Alfred entered the kitchen, which had wallpaper with cow spots all over it. How tacky.

Alfred just shrugged.

"Use yer words, boy. An' follow me. We'll getcha situated right away. Everyone does their fair share of chores around here. You won't be an exception just 'cuz you're new."

Chores? _Chores?_ Alfred had never lifted a finger in his life! His mother had picked up after him and done his laundry and everything. Now he was expected to not only clean up after himself, but others? This was hell on Earth!

"I got some clothes for you," Cletis informed him. "Y'll be wantin' 'em for your chores."

Specific clothes for his chores? What had Alfred gotten himself into? No... what had _Matthew_ gotten Alfred into? If it weren't for that selfish little bitch, Alfred would still be comfortable in his own home, with all of his belongings, being allowed to do as he pleased.

Overalls, tall boots and some rubber gloves were thrust into Alfred's hands.

"Go change an' make i' quick," Cletis said, looking rather annoyed at having to wait for anything.

Alfred did as he was told, finding the boots to be small and constricting to his feet while the overalls were too short and yet somehow were too big for his muscular body, and then Cletis lead him out to some stables. "Your first job is to muck these out," he said, motioning to the multiple ones. "An' when yer done, ya can c'llect th' eggs from th' chickens." He pointed to where Alfred could find said animals. "Watch out for clucky. 'E don't like visitors. When yer done wif that, y'll be good for now and can do as ya please. We don' have cable or nothin', but I'm sure Billy c'n entertain ya." With that said, Cletis left Alfred to his chores.

Stables first. The smell was the first thing that got Alfred's attention. It was worse than when their septic tank had backed up and flooded the yard. Not to mention that the heat made the smell worse. Flies buzzed around the shit in the stalls and Alfred thought he was going to die. The stables seemed to be hotter than the outside, the smell lingering in there. He gagged, and even threw up a few times, tears in his eyes. When he was done with the stalls, he sat outside and sobbed, feeling sorry for himself. His body, as muscular as it was from sports, was sore as the muscles he had used for cleaning the stalls either weren't used or weren't used as much in the sports in which he played.

When he finally got himself around to getting to the chicken coop, he was covered in shit (quite literally) and his eyes were red and puffy from breaking down and crying. He went inside to gather the eggs and was immediately assaulted by feathers being ruffled and flying everywhere, and whatever the hell sounds chickens make while a beak started pecking at him. Alfred quickly gathered the eggs, dropping and breaking most of them. Then, he shut up the coop and went to the house, ready to just die.

There were no complaints from anyone when he went to shower. The soap stung his dirty skin and all of the cuts and scrapes that he had gained from that chicken. Not to mention that the water didn't seem to have a setting for hot, so his shower was freezing. When he got out, he managed to find some antiseptic for his cuts. But as soon as he left the bathroom, Cletis started yelling at him about breaking all the eggs.

Eventually, Alfred was allowed to go to his room, where he dropped onto the bed and cried himself to sleep.

The next morning, Alfred was awoken, by Billy. The boy was straddling him and running some sort of weird herb over his skin. After freaking out and successfully waking the whole house up—which was comprised of quite a few people, Alfred shortly found out—and being reprimanded again, Alfred was sent off to school without breakfast as he had broken all of the eggs.

At his new school, he was made fun of for the way he smelled—the scent of manure just didn't seem to leave him—and he was made fun of for his accent. Anything the kids could find to make fun of him for, they did. Objects were chucked at him, insults thrown in his direction, and then he went home only to have to muck out the stables and gather eggs. He got better over the days, and faster too. His body was less sore. But he was physically and emotionally drained. Alfred longed to run away, but was too tired. He just... couldn't. When he was working and thinking about it, he couldn't because Cletis and Betty-Sue's farm was surrounded by barbed wire and there were cameras in the school hallways, not to mention that if he did runaway, he could end up in Juvenal for being a runaway. His grades, which weren't good to begin with, slipped further and as soon Alfred turned 18, he got the hell out of that hellhole that he called home. At first, he lived on the streets, showering in a public restroom and working as often as he could. Then he got a car and lived in that. Finally, he made enough money to transfer somewhere further north, close to where he had grown up. While he didn't bother looking for his parents, Alfred did look up Matthew. He didn't go see him, but once he had an apartment of his own, Alfred sent a letter to Matthew apologizing for all the years of neglect and abuse. That taken care of, Alfred went back to school and earned his diploma, working his ass off. As much as he hated his time on the farm, it had really helped him to grow up, and he became a much better person. Through letters, he rebuilt his relationship with his brother, and the two actually got close again. Alfred was jealous, though, because Matthew was doing well in life, and was even married, though it was to a guy.

Once he got the money for it, Alfred went to college, and Matthew helped him when he could, even though Alfred knew he didn't deserve it. Gilbert hated Alfred for all that he had done to Matthew, and didn't approve of Matthew trying to have a brotherly relationship with him, but was could only sit back and do what Matthew wanted, as he wanted the man to be happy.

While in college, Alfred fell for his English professor, Arthur Kirkland. While he knew things couldn't work out, especially while Alfred was a student, he didn't stop dreaming. His relationship with Matthew even strengthened because of this, since Alfred was constantly asking for "gay advice."

In the end, both boys turned out better after that court date all those years ago, and grew into good, functioning members of society.

**A/N:** Thanks for sticking with me through all of this, guys. I hope you all liked it. This is now the end, and I'm sad to see it end after so long. Also, sorry if the end seemed rushed. I suck at endings.


End file.
